I laugh. "As long as he treats you both well."
The impact hit me like a sucker punch, icy crystals cascading down my collar and sending a shiver straight through my core. I spin around to find Charlie standing there, fingers already molding another snowball as her lips curved into a triumphant smile that lights up her entire face.
"You did not just do that," I growl, my voice dropping to that dangerous register that usually makes people back away slowly.
Not Charlie though. A mischievous glint flashes through her eyes, dancing with a wild challenge as she squares her shoulders.
"What are you gonna do about it, Montgomery?"
Something electric crackled between us across the snow-covered ground, and despite the ice melting against my skin, heat surges through my body.
"You better run, Shortcake."
She squeals—actually squeals—and bolts down the wooden deck stairs, her boots sinking and catching in the deep snow that swallows her ankles. Her auburn hair streams behind her like a banner as she plunges through the snow, half-running, half-leaping. I give her a generous three-second head start, counting deliberately in my head before launching after her, my longer legs devouring the distance between us.
"Snowball fight!" Addie's voice rings out behind me, followed by the crisp crunch of snow being packed. A cold mass smacks between my shoulder blades a heartbeat later.
Emily materializes from the house doorway as if summoned by the commotion, instantly flocking to Addie's side. "Girls against boys!" she shouts, her fingers already molding a snowball.
"That's not fair," I call out, twisting sideways as Emily's throw whooshes past my ear with surprising speed. "It's three against one!"
"Life's not fair, Bash!" Charlie's voice floats from ahead, where she vanishes behind the trunk of a pine tree.
What erupts next is pure winter warfare. Snowballs fly in every direction, cutting white arcs through the crisp air. I nail Emily square on the back of her head, making her scream with laughter, and clip Addie's arm with another shot that earns me wide eyes of theatrical betrayal. But Charlie—Charlie moves like someone who's been lying about her athletic abilities. She darts between trees with surprising agility, a phantom who uses her companions as diversions while she circles and strikes from impossible angles.
The sound of laughter rings through the crisp mountain air as we dart between the trees. My cheeks burn from the biting cold and the unshakeable grin stretching across my face.
I spot Charlie through the snow-laden branches, her auburn hair peeking from beneath her beanie as she creeps around my flank. She treads lightly, each step calculated, while Emily and Addie bombard me with snowy projectiles from the front. I keep my shoulders squared toward the main assault, but my senses lock onto Charlie's stealthy approach. The soft crunch of her boots in the snow. The occasional twig snapping underfoot.
She edges closer, just a few feet away now. I can hear the soft hitch as she tries to steady her breathing. The rustle of her jacket as she draws her arm back, snowball clutched victoriously in her gloved hand. At the last possible second, I pivot and lunge forward in one fluid motion, watching her confidence shatter into surprise.
My hands find the curve of her waist as I use her own momentum against her, backing her against the rough bark of a snow-dusted evergreen. We disappear behind the thick trunk, hidden from prying eyes.
"Gotcha," I murmur, our mingled breath dancing between us in the frigid air.
Her eyes widen, those warm hazel depths I’ve gotten lost in so many times these past few days now dark with surprise. Her cheeks are flushed pink—from the cold, from running, from this unbearable tension between us—and a loose strand of auburn hair clings to her forehead where it escaped from her toboggan. The snowball she’d been clutching so determinedly just moments ago drops from her gloved hand with a soft thump, forgotten before it even hits the ground between our boots.
We’re pressed together—no space, no pretense between us now. The rough bark of the evergreen digs into the back of her puffy coat as I cage her in, my hands braced against the tree, our chests brushing with every ragged breath. The woods around us are quiet except for the distant laughter of Emily and Addie still playfully shouting taunts through the trees. Then—something in her changes.
I see it in the way her lips part slightly, the way her playful defiance seems to drain away, leaving only something hotter, rawer. Her gaze drops to my mouth for a fleeting second, and that’s all the invitation I need. My heart pounds in my chest, wild and unrestrained, as I lean in, closing that final distance between us.
The kiss isn’t careful. It isn’t measured or strategic like so many of our interactions up to now. It’s messy, desperate, a collision of lips and breath and pent-up tension condensed into this single moment. And—fuck—she doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. The second my mouth crashes into hers, she meets me with the same reckless eagerness, one leg hooking around my calf through the layers of snow pants we’re both wearing, dragging me closer until there’s no space left between us at all.
Her gloved fingers fist in my hair, pulling in a way that sends heat straight down my spine. A small, breathless noise escapes the back of her throat—something between surprise and surrender—and it nearly undoes me. All the blood in my system seems to race down to my cock and I can already feel it straining against my pants. I lean in and push it against her, letting her feel just how much I want this. That grants me another strangled moan. My hand slides from thetree to her waist, gripping the thick fabric of her coat like I’m afraid she’ll vanish if I don’t hold on tight, while my other hand cups the side of her face, thumb brushing the flushed skin just below the edge of her knit hat.
I don’t care about the snow. Don’t care that we’re supposed to be in some ridiculous snowball fight. All I can think is that I need more—more of her, more of this—somewhere with no interruptions, no watchful eyes, no reason to pretend anymore.
"Charlie? Bash? Where'd you guys go?"
Emily's voice breaks the spell. Charlie pulls back, her breathing ragged, eyes dazed. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the realization of what just happened—what almost happened—settling between us.
"We should..." she whispers.
"Yeah," I agree, reluctantly stepping back.
She straightens her hat, which has gone slightly askew, and I brush some snow from her shoulder. There's an intimacy to these small gestures that feels more significant than the kiss we just shared.
"Over here!" Charlie calls, her voice only slightly unsteady. "Just strategizing!"
